No One Left
by bookworm2u
Summary: EDITED,Matt a former soc, has lost everything, including his parents and his money. Now, with the help of Pony, he must learn to survive on the wrong side of the tracks.
1. Default Chapter

**No One Left**

**Disclaimer: **I, no matter how much I wish, am NOT the great S.E. Hinton. I do not own _The Outsiders_ or any related characters blah blah blah. If I were Miss Hinton I probably would not be writing here, now would I. I DO however own Matt and any other people you don't recognize.

**Summary: **Matt, a former soc, has just lost everything he had ever known, including his parents. Now, with some help from Ponyboy, he must learn to survive on the wrong side of the tracks. But the socs are out to get him. Even more frightening, Matt has a secret. And if Pony finds out about it, it could mean the end of their friendship.

Oh, by the way, the story has been edited and beta-ed by the marvelous Hahukum Konn. Thanks!

On with the story….

_Chapter One  
My Former Life_

"Let's go hunt some action," said Bob. Bob was the leader of our group of Socials, and what he said went. No one dared disobey him.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked.

"Look over there, Matt," he said. I followed his gaze into the alleyway where, slouching against the wall, was one of those no good greasers. And today's activity planned by Bob was ridding the world of another filthy piece of scum.

Quietly, we circled around the greaser like a pack of dogs, preparing for the kill. And as soon as Bob gave the command, that's what we would do.

I watched the boy intently, studying the look of fear on his face. I saw him look quickly around for something to fight with, but he found nothing.

"Hey grease," said Bob. "Guess what? Today's your lucky day. You ain't gonna have to live on the poor side of town anymore. Hell, after today, you ain't gonna live at all."

I saw the greaser's narrowed eyes widen in fear after he said that. But none of us really cared. Now was our cue to start the hunt.

We closed in around him. Randy held the greaser's hands behind his back while Mitch and I held him as still as we could. Joe and Willie aided Bob in slugging the kid until his face was nothing more than a blackish-blue mass of bruised flesh. I watched as one of Bob's high-school rings cut through the boy's skin. I shuddered involuntarily at the sight of the blood oozing down his face. But I quickly regained my composure. Socs weren't supposed to care, especially about no-good greasers. But I could not help but wonder how bad the guy would look when we were through with him. I knew for sure that he would have a scar for the rest of his life.

But no matter how soc-like I tried to remain, I could not help but wonder about this guy's story, who he really was. Surely he had friends out there somewhere, waiting for him. But when Bob and the others were finished, there'd be nothing left.

And I was right. By the time it was all over with, the guy was nothing but a half-dead heap lying on the ground, sobbing.

"Come on guys. Let's go to the drive-in to celebrate. I hear there's a good one on tonight. I think its got Paul Newman in it," said Bob. And without another thought about the greaser we left in the lot, I jumped into Bob's brand new car along with the rest of the gang.

_Four Months Later_

Bob and I were driving to my house from the school dance. We had just dropped our dates off at their homes and were headin' to mine. It was around midnight by now, and my parents would expect me home soon, but they were probably asleep now anyway.

We had almost just reached my house, which, I might add, was on the West side of town, when I saw my brother Nate sittin' on the curb, head in his hands. If I didn't know better I would say that he was…no, it couldn't be…_crying_.

I was about to ask what was wrong, to get my parents when I looked up at my house. Or at least my house used to be there. But it was gone. Instead it was replaced with a gigantic pile of rubble, ash and debris.

"Nate, what happened," I breathed, trying to figure out what was going on.

"There was a fire," he answered quietly, his voice shaking slightly. "It destroyed everything. There's nothin' left."

_Nothin Left. _The words echoed through my head, like a broken record player playing the same two words over and over. _Nothin left._

"What about Mom and Dad?" I asked. I still could not truly comprehend what was happening.

"Mom's dead," he said simply, continuing to sob.

"W-what about Dad," I stuttered. _This can't be happening,_ I thought.

"He's still alive. He's at the hospital. But they don't expect him to make it."

I felt like running, screaming, yelling, but I contained myself just long enough to ask, "Nate, what's gonna happen to us?"

"I don't know, man. I just don't know."

"Come on guys," said Bob, surprising me. I had forgotten that he was still there. "You're coming to stay with me tonight."

- - - - -

**Okay, I know it was a little short, but I promise it will be longer next time. I just had to show Matt's past. No Ponyboy yet, but I promise you he'll come in a few more chapters. I gotta get the story established first, 'cause these events will effect future ones. Sorry if I bored you to death, but it'll get better, I promise! Rate and review please!**

**Oh yeah, one more thing. I will accept flames, but ONLY if they contain Constructive Criticism. What's the point of just saying "You stink," if your don't give me advice on how to get better? Oh, remember its my first time here so give me credit for that, too.**

**Bookworm**

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	2. All a Blur

**Disclaimer: **I, no matter how much I wish, am NOT the great S.E. Hinton. I do not own _The Outsiders_ or any related characters blah blah blah. If I were Miss Hinton I probably would not be writing here, now would I. I DO however own Matt and any other people you don't recognize.

**A/N: Bob's eighteen Matt are sixteen; Nate is eighteen, about to head off to college.**

_Chapter Two  
All A Blur_

I'm not sure how long it took to get to Bob's house. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, days, or years. But nothing made sense to me anymore. Time knew no number. Everything was a blur. My brain could not process all of the information at once. All I knew was that there was nothing left.

Then, one thought hit me like a ton of bricks. Nate and I still had something. Dad was still alive…he may not have been doing too well… but he was still alive. So there was at least a chance that he would live, that everything would be okay.

"Nate," I said suddenly, surprising him, as we got out of Bob's car. "We got to get to the hospital to see Dad!"

Nate scowled. "You REALLY think that those doctors would let us into the intensive care unit at two o'clock in the morning!" he yelled, his voice betraying the rage and sadness he was trying not to let me see.

"Shut up, guys," said Bob. "You're gonna wake up the whole neighborhood at this rate."

Nate, still glaring at me, shut his mouth. He did not like taking orders from a "kid", but he had to admit that Bob was speaking sense.

Bob slipped a key out of his pocket and quietly turned it in the lock.

Instantly, we heard his mom shout, "Robert! What's going on out there! Who's yelling?"

"Y'all go on upstairs," Bob whispered. "I'll explain to mom."

Obediently, Nate and I made our way up the long spiral staircase. Nate picked one out of the scores of rooms and shut himself in it. I heard the click of the lock behind him. I truly did not blame him. I felt like doing the same thing myself. I felt so miserable.

I too picked one of the guest rooms and shut myself in. Sick and confused, I passed out on the bed. There was nothing left for me to do.

I was awoken the next morning by someone banging loudly on my door.

"Shut up," I croaked, stuffing my head under my pillow.

"Well fine," came Bob's voice, "I guess you don't want to go see your Dad."

Immediately, I jumped out of the bed and opened the door. I almost ran into Bob, but he dodged in time before any damage was done. I sprinted towards the stairs and was half way down when Bob shouted, "Hold up! Where do you think you're goin'?"

"To see my Dad!" I shouted, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world to do.

"Not looking like that you're not," he said. He thrust some of his own clothes into my arms.

I realized that I must have looked a sight, my hair uncombed, my clothes from yesterday wrinkled from where I had slept in them.

In record time, I changed and made myself presentable, and ushered Nate out the door.

We borrowed Bob's car and sped to the hospital. I realized later that it was a miracle that we were not pulled over by the police.

We ran into the hospital, and after talking with a nurse, found Dad's room.

As we made our way through the maze of halls and passageways, I began to feel nervous. I mean, what do you say to a man who is in the hospital and possibly could die?

_He's not gonna die_, I told myself firmly, and pushed the thought from my mind.

Finally, Nate stopped in front of a door and said, "This is it." Quietly, he pushed open the door.

Dad looked a site. Blotchy burns covered his body, and what skin was left was charred black by flame and ash. It made me sick to look at it. And I wondered how anyone in his condition could survive. But though he was now asleep, he was still alive.

I sat down in one of the chairs beside the bed and listened to the bleeping of the heart monitor. With every burst of sound, it meant Dad lived for another second.

Bleep.

Bleep.

Bleep.

Listening to the comforting sound of the heart monitor, I fell asleep.

I woke up a few hours later.

I heard Nate and Dad talking softly.

"Wow," said Nate. "You've been asleep for nearly six hours. Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

I didn't answer. Sure I had slept, but it hadn't been a sleep of exhaustion, but a sleep of worry and habit. At least now I felt like I had a little bit of energy to spare.

"Hi Dad," I said.

"Come here, Matthew," he said quietly, in a voice that was not his own. I noticed his eyes were glazed and his skin was taking on a grayish tint. He put his hand on my head and said. "Matthew, you know I'm… I'm… dying."

That sole word rang out through the hospital room.

"No Dad," I said, trying to sound reassuring, though my voice was quaking too much to do any good. "You're gonna be okay."

But he took no heed. "I want you to be good, alright? Obey Nathaniel. And promise me one thing."

"Anything, Dad."

"Promise me that you won't cry at my funeral."

After that, his hand fell from where it had been resting at my brow, and the heart monitor went flat.

"Nooooooooo!" I yelled. I ran out of the hospital room yelling for a doctor, a nurse, for anybody to make my dad better again.

"Shhh, Matt," said Nate. "There's nothing you can do. He's gone."

I wrenched myself out of his grasp and started running.

I don't know how I did it, but somehow in my rage of pain and agony, I made it to Bob's house.

I found the whole gang sitting, talking in Bob's living room, waiting for me.

"He's dead," I bellowed. "And someone's gonna pay."

No one questioned what I had just said. They knew what I was gonna do. The next person who crossed my path was gonna pay dearly for it. And I didn't care. Like a wolf searching for the kill, I led the gang to the park, where I saw my next victims.

- - - - -

Okay, so what did you think. I'll bring Pony and the gang into the next chapter for sure. And A special thanks to the reviewers… who so kindly didn't flame me:

**Steves-girl – **Thanks! I have big things planned for this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for reading.

**WenWen – **Thanks for the encouragement!

**Babygurl33 – **Yep. It was poor Johnny, but Matt didn't know who he was so I couldn't just say it right out. I tried to give hints though. I always wondered what Bob's gang went through during the story and what happened afterwards with them.

**Darkdestiny2000 – **Thanks! Yep, it was poor little Johnny they attempted to kill. I hope this update was soon enough for ya. I was on a trip so I couldn't get on it right away. Hope this is okay.

Thanks for reading and review please. They are what keeps me goin'

**Bookworm**

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	3. Out of Control

**Disclaimer: **So here it is, for all you lawyers out there **I'm not S.E.Hinton.** There, I said it. Happy? I just own Matt and any other characters I may bring in here at one point or another.

**A/N: Nate wasn't at the house when the fire occurred. Therefore he had his own car and had been out doing his own thing.**

On with the story….

_Chapter Three  
Out of Control_

It was not long before we had our targets in our grasp. Randy and the others had grabbed one and were attempting to drown him in the fountain, while Bob and I were working on the other one. I realized that it was the same guy we had beat up before. The white scar from Bob's rings contrasted greatly with his dark, swarthy skin. Bob noticed it too. "You'd think," he said to me, "that this kid would learn to stay out of the streets."

Then I heard the boy faintly whisper, "Perhaps it's you that needs to learn the lesson." Deftly, the boy drew a switchblade out of his back pocket and opened the blade. Before Bob could do anything, he jabbed it into Bob's stomach.

The boy looked surprised at what he had done and slowly backed away from Bob's still body, which was oozing dark blood and staining the ground. We ran.

Mom and Dad's funeral was the next day. Nate had taken us to the department store and had bought us suits and all that stuff. It was hard, but as the caskets were lowered into the ground, I kept my promise to Dad. I didn't cry.

Nate spent the next week trying to get custody over me. Eventually, he won, having just come of age, and since it was just two of us, it wasn't as hard as it could have been. Nate told me to be thankful that I wasn't a girl.

One day after I came home from school, Nate told me he had a surprise.

"I found us a house," he said, grinning. After Mom and Dad died we had been staying at a motel, and I was glad to be finally getting out of there. We took Nate's truck and headed towards our new home. It wasn't long before I realized where we were headin'. We were on the East side of town.

Nate stopped in front of an old, small, battered looking house. "This is it." He said, hopping out.

I shook my head. "No, it's not," I said.

"What do you mean?" asked Nate.

"In case you haven't noticed," I said, practically yelling. "this is the East side. This is where the greasers live. I'm not gonna live here."

Nate glared at me. "Yeah you are. Listen Matt, we don't have the money to live like we used to. The funeral and hospital bills took up most of the insurance money we got, and it would have cost too much to rebuild our house, and I had to sell the lot it was on to clear the mortgage. So this is the only place we have left, and you had better get used to it."

I sat down on the curb. There was no way this could be happening.

"And another thing," Nate continued. "You are not a greaser, no matter what anyone says. I don't want you anywhere near those bums, savvy?" Nate was probably hoping we wouldn't be mistaken for greasers even if we did have to live among them.

I nodded, though I really didn't care.

School the next day had been really weird. It seemed as though the gang had been avoiding me. I hadn't seen them all day. Even at lunch, there seemed to have been no room for me at the table.

As I walked home, I was glad to see them walk beside me. But I would soon find out that things would never be the same. All at once, they jumped on me, pounding me like a hammer would a nail, and I knew no more. I blacked out.

- - - - -

Okay, so what didja think? Matt will meet the gang in the next chapter for those of you who were wondering. A big thankie to the reviewers, who make my story so worth while…

**Darkdestiny2000-** Thanks. Yeah, at times death does seem unfair. But it shapes our lives and our destinies and helps us turn into who we are going to become. And in a way, death is a kind of relief, I mean, who would want to be stuck on earth forever. It would just be too painful to have to live to see all the tragedies.

**DallyJacklover- **I'm glad you like it. I got tired of reading the same old, same old, so I decided to give this a try. I had never read one like this and I thought it was pretty original, so I decided to post and see what people thought.

**Steves-girl- **yeah, poor Matty. He doesn't seem to have control over anything anymore. But who really does? But hopefully, the greasers will help him get through

**Hahukum Konn- **Yeah, its terrible how nasty people can be to each other. You don't really believe it until it happens to you. I had a friend once who dumped my gang in order to be popular and stuff. She was a poet as well, but she gave up her gift too.

My best friend goes to public school, unlike me, and she brings me stories about the rich/poor popular/un conflict. It just goes to show how terrible things can get over social status. But its like Ponyboy said. SOMEWHERE there has to be just people. We just don't happen to live in that world.

Thanks for reading. Rate and review please if you want me to continue.

**Bookworm**

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	4. Meet the Greasers

**Disclaimer: **Okay, no one sued me, so that's good. But I'm gonna say it again. The Outsiders and all related characters blah blah blah, are © S.E.Hinton. As I am not she, The Outsiders AREN'T mine. However, I do own Matt, the plot, and whatever creative genius I have. Which, to tell ya the truth, isn't much.

On with the show…

Oh, before I begin, please note:

Matt beat up Pony and Johnny, therefore, they ran away and all that. A WEEK LATER after Johnny died is when Matt's friends turned on him. By this time, alas, poor Johnny and Dally have passed on, and the greaser gang has now been reduced to five. Until…

_Chapter Four  
Meet the Greasers_

_Ugh. My head_. I thought. I ached all over. I wasn't sure why, and in a way I was glad that I didn't remember. Who would want a memory of pain looming over them for the rest of their lives?

Suddenly, I heard a voice from out of nowhere. "Look guys. I think he's comin' round."

I tried to sit up, to examine my surroundings, to find out where the heck I was, but a wave of dizziness swept over me. Once it subsided, I stood up, trying to find the exit. I didn't want to be here, I just wanted to get home.

"Where do ya think you're goin'?" asked one, pushing me back onto the couch. He was big and burly looking, and I didn't dare go against his command. He had to be the oldest in the room, the one in charge, yet still too young to be a parent.

"Who are you?" I asked. "What happened? Where am I?"

"You got beat up by the socs," one of the five guys in the room said. He had to be the youngest of them, fourteen at the most. "Soda found you lyin' half dead in the lot. He brought you here and we patched you up a bit."

"Soda?" I inquired. I had to be hallucinating…

"Guess we forgot to introduce ourselves," said one, who looked like he had consumed a little too much beer. Sure enough, there was a can in his hand as well as another one on the table beside the couch.

One guy stepped forward and introduced himself. "I'm Soda." I was about to speak up when he said, "And yeah, that is my real name. This is Ponyboy, my little brother" he gestured to the smallest one. "Darry, my oldest brother," he pointed out the burly one. "We're the Curtises, and these are our friends Two-Bit," the one with the Mickey Mouse waved, "and this is Steve." Steve just stood there with his arms crossed, glaring. "And this is our house."

"Please, I gotta call my brother. Oh god, he's gonna kill me for bein' out so late."

"Don't worry 'bout it, Matt," said Darry. I wondered how he knew my name, but before I could ask, he said, "We found your ID in your wallet. Your brother's on his way right now."

That was a relief. But I could not help but wonder. Had my friends really dumped me this fast just because I landed on the wrong side of the tracks? I was too sick to think about it now.

But suddenly, Darry's voice broke through my thoughts. "You know what this means now guys? None of us can walk alone, y'all hear. If the socs are this bad its too dangerous. And everyone carries a switchblade, even you Pony."

But Pony didn't seemed to be listening. His eyes were far off, as if he were dreaming.

"Pony!" Darry shouted. The other boy snapped out of his trance, confused and scared looking. "Pony, what's wrong?" Darry asked, his voice softer.

Ponyboy just shook his head. "Nothing. It's just like the time Johnny… oh Darry, I don't want it to happen all over again…"

Darry put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry little buddy, it won't. But in the meantime I want you to be careful, okay."

Pony nodded as someone knocked on the door.

"It's open!" Soda yelled.

Nate came in and went up to me. "Thank god you're all right," he breathed. He turned to Darry and said. "I'd like to thank you for finding him, Mr. uhh."

"Darry. Just Darry."

"Darry. If you hadn't found him… I don't want to think about what might have happened."

"It's nothing." He said, and we turned to leave.

"Hey Matt, we'll we be seeing you around?" Pony called.

I glanced at Nate, looking for approval. Just a few days ago he said that he'd skin me if he ever saw me with "these bums."

I saw him nod slightly and I said, "Sure thing…Pony."

I sighed with relief. These guys had gained some respect in Nate's eyes.

- - - - -

A special thanks to the reviewers, who keep me goin'.

**Hahukum Konn- **Yeah, lets just say Matt's parents weren't that well prepared. But I don't know much about insurance anyway. Oh, I took your advice with the formatting, I hope that this is a little less confusing.

**Stevesgirl- **Your right, if I could reach into my imagination and hug Matt, I would, but for now I'm stuck here trying to find away to make it up to him. Well, at least he has the greasers.

**Sodapop CurtisDX- **Yeah, it's something new, so I decided to post. But your right, Matt really didn't care about his victims… until he became one himself .

**Babygurl33- **Yeah, the socs are mean. I'd hate to come across one of them in real life, but alas, they do exist. But Nate's view on the greasers has changed greatly since they saved his little bro. I doubt he'll be so judgmental now, but only time will tell.

**Darkdestiny2000-** I'm glad you liked my opinion. Personally, I was afraid you'd be mad at me. My friends and I have debates like that all the time, mostly about things we here on the news that our parents think we don't know. Usually our final thought is, "Too bad we're gonna lose this wisdom when we become adults!" Well, I hope you liked this chapter as well as the last. It's gonna be hard on Matt. I've lost friends like that before, and I hope I can channel some of this experience into my story as well. And as for Nate, he's starting to come around!

Rate and Review please if you want me to go on. Without you there is no me.

**Bookworm**

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	5. Thinking It Through

**Disclaimer**: I have said it before, and I shall say it again. I'm not S.E.Hinton. If I were, I would not be writing this. I would be sitting at home answering fan mail and writing famous novels for y'all to read.

On with the show…

_Chapter Five  
Thinking It Through_

Nate walked home with me. I led for a while, but I soon realized that I had no clue where I was or where I was headin'.

"Nate, where the heck are we? And why didn't you bring the truck?"

"Matt, we live right down the road," he sighed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, how was I supposed to know? I was unconscious, remember?"

"WHAT! Darry called and told me that you got scraped up a little and that they were taking care of you, but they didn't mention anything about you getting knocked out!"

I just shrugged a shoulder as he unlocked the front door of our house. I tried to make it to my room, which was small and dingy, just like the rest of the house, but better than being with a stressed Nate, when he said, "Matt, get over here, now!"

I sighed, then went into the living room. I plopped down on the old couch we got from a garage sale (that's where we got most of our furniture: garage sales, discount stores, flea markets) waiting for whatever was coming next.

He sat down in an old armchair across from me and stared at me with his hard, cold, blue eyes. They didn't used to be that way, but they were now. I don't know why, but in a way, he kinda reminded me of Darry. His eyes had the same set to them, too.

But in a way that look was almost scary, like he could read your thoughts just by looking at you. And I preferred to keep my thoughts to myself, thank you very much.

But Nate continued to stare at me before he said, "Now, Matt, I want you to tell me what happened. Don't skip anything. I wanna know who did this, and I wanna know the truth about it, savvy?"

I sighed but nodded. There was no getting out of it, no matter how much I didn't want to relate my experience.

"Well, I was walking home from school just like normal. I hadn't seen the gang all day. It seemed as though they had been avoiding me all day. So I started off home, and when I looked behind me, I noticed them following me. I waited up for them, and… I dunno… I guess they decided to gang up on me. The only other thing I remember was pain and falling to the ground. Then I woke up at the Curtises where only one person has a normal first name."

Nate stared at me for a while again, then decided that I didn't lie. "So your friends did this to you?" he asked again, just to verify he had heard correctly.

"Those lousy-" He went on to call them every name he could think up before saying, "I don't want you to hang around with them anymore."

_No kidding._ "Then who should I hang out with?" I asked, just out of curiosity. There was no way I could take my old friends back after what they did to me.

"What about that kid. Horse-guy, or something. He looked like he was almost your age."

I nodded.

"Besides, you owe all them your presence. They saved you ya know."

Again I nodded. I felt worse than ever, but if they hadn't come along I'd probably be hanging around dead in a gutter somewhere. I asked him, "Do ya think I look as bad as I feel?"

He laughed, then said, "Even worse. I'm just gonna have to hope your school doesn't report me for child abuse. We'd have social workers swarming around this place."

I nodded, then went to my room. I had to think.

Why did they do this to me? Even if I was a greaser now, I thought that they had more morals than that. There had to be something more to it than that.

It was then it hit me. It had been my idea to go beat up the greasers that day. So it was my fault that Bob had died – even if Bob had his own excuse for going with me since I'd heard him say something about his girlfriend associating with the greasers. Even if I had remained a soc, they would have still been after me.

It was then I knew that from now on, I had to be careful. My old friends had become new enemies. And the people I used to hate were now my only allies.

- - - - -

Now, on to the reviews…

**Hahukum Konn- **Thanks for the email, I feel a lot better now that I know I got it right. And in my reply I explained about the knife thing… so the only thing left to say is No, the greasers don't know about Matt yet. I think he will tell Pony at least, but I think he's gonna keep to himself that it was his fault Bob died. And if Bob hadn't died neither would have Johnny and Dally. Hope this is a little bit longer for ya. Probably isn't but sry.

**Babygurl33- **Yeah, poor Johnny and Dal, they were so young…. I think Pony will know soon that Matt was a soc, but he's gonna keep the fact that he jumped him and Johnny a secret, at least for a while.

**Steves-girl- **Yeah, I wish they were my boys, too. Whenever I write a novel or a story I tend to think of the characters as my guys too, even though I'm just the writer and my characters are usually a couple of years older than me!

**Purified Darkness- **Lol. Hope this is a soon enough update for ya. At least its sooner than two years! ;)

**Dark Destiny2000- **Yeah, so sad. But it is these things that make us who we are and who we are going to become. Okay, I sound like some old monk who does nothing but pretends to be wise! But yeah, Nate's starting to realize that the greasers are okay guys. They did save his little brother, after all.

PLEASE REVIEW. I look forward to them so much. They really make my day. I'm aiming for around six this time so please help me make my goal before I update.

**Bookworm**

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	6. A pomegranate?

**Disclaimer: **For the past five chapters, I have not been S.E.Hinton. Nothing, unfortunately, has changed since then. I'm still poor and only own Matt. But one can dream…

Oh, before I begin, I'd just like to apologize. I sincerely didn't know that I had turned anonymous reviews off. I'm really sorry, and if you are not an ffn member and have been unable to review, I invite you to review now. Sorry if this offended anyone, and a very special thank you to Fairlane, who alerted me to this setback.

_Chapter Six  
A Pomegranate?_

When I woke the next morning, I was a nervous wreck. I had to go to school. As if that wasn't a bummer in itself, one of my "old friends" was in almost all of my classes. We had planned it that way at the beginning of the year, but, well, that was before all this happened. I was in trouble now.

I ate breakfast slowly, nervously stirring my cereal around in my bowl. Nate stared at me with his hard eyes, but apparently found nothing. Eventually, he just sighed and told me that I had better start walking if I wanted to get to school on time. That was exactly what I DIDN"T want, but there was no disagreeing with Nate.

Slowly, I ambled out the door.

I walked the two miles to school alone. I couldn't help but notice that I kept on looking over my shoulder to make sure that no one was following me. I felt even worse than I had yesterday, my skin was black, blue, and green, and I ached all over, despite the aspirins I had taken when I woke up. I couldn't let it happen again. I _wouldn't_ let it happen again.

But what could I do to prevent it? The socs had everything I didn't, money, power, and a willingness to rid the world of the greasers.

But we greasers still had something they didn't. Feelings, for one, which, before I was a greaser, I didn't know I had. And a willingness to survive. They weren't gonna get me again. And the willingness to belong. Someday, somehow, I was gonna be happy again.

And I didn't look over my shoulder again. Until I reached the school.

I saw the socs beating up yet another kid. It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair. I wanted to step in, to help the one who was being beaten senseless, but I knew that there was nothing that I could do. If I got beaten up anymore, I would end up in the hospital, and we didn't have enough money for that. Besides, Nate was right. It would be a miracle if I could get through school today without some social worker questioning me.

So I walked on.

School went by slower than ever. It seemed as though I had to watch my back everywhere I went. Everywhere, it seemed as though the socs were following me. I knew that that probably wasn't the case, that I was just hallucinating, but it was still scary. I sat in the back of the classrooms with the other "bums", hidden in the corners. I would never be allowed back in social territory again.

Ponyboy met me outside the school building. "You wanna come do your homework over at my house?" he asked.

I nodded. I had nothing better to do. Nate was out job searching, and he wouldn't be home for another couple of hours at the least.

Boy, was I in for it.

When we reached the house, Two-Bit had beaten us there. Already, the Elvis was blaring on the radio, and Mickey Mouse was on the T.V. Two-Bit was raiding the fridge for beer and chocolate cake while singing at the top of his lungs.

"You do your homework in this much noise?" I asked as Pony set his books down at the kitchen table.

He nodded. "Every day."

Wow. That right there gave me a new respect for him.

Slowly and sloppily, I did my algebra homework. It was hard enough for me already, and the music pounding through my brain didn't help much either.

Exasperated, I shut the book and decided to do my Social Studies homework.

Of all the things I had to pick for my class, of course I HAD to pick psychology. We had already finished doing all the bookwork, studying the functions of the brain and the like, and now we were getting on to the "interesting" stuff. But before we could start understanding other peoples' minds, the teacher said we had to get to know our own. So of course she had given us a questionnaire so that we could get to "know ourselves better."

"Listen to this," I told Ponyboy, then began to read, "If you were a fruit, what kind would you be?"

We both started cracking up.

"I think," piped in Two-Bit seriously, "that I would be a pomegranate."

"A pomegranate?" I asked. Of all the things… I glanced at Ponyboy.

"Don't ask me. Personally, I'm surprised he even knows what a pomegranate IS."

This was just too much.

I shut my book. "Next time," I told Ponyboy, "we do our work at my house."

"Deal."

- - - - -

Okay, kinda stupid, I know, but that's what happens when you mix me, 7-up, an iridium satellite, how-to-make-your-own chainmail, and my love of fresh fruit together. (Please, don't ask. I'm a very strange person with very…unique… interests. Lol) Okay, just to make my Sunday complete, I gotta go find some chocolate. But before I go indulge myself… a very special thanks to the reviewers….

**Darkdestiny2000- **Yep, Darry and Nate have kinda been through the same thing, so I figured they might act similar. But poor Matty, it seems as though everything's his fault now…Bob, Johnny, Dally… It might take a while for him to get over it. But of course he doesn't want anyone to know that he started it all… Yeah, I'd better stop before I go on rambling too. I tend to do that sometimes. But just for the record, I don't mind if you ramble in reviews for my story. Rambling can be so much fun…

**Hahukum Konn- **Yeah, and what's more fun than socializing with the greasers.

**Steves-girl- **here it is!

**Fairlane- **I do love some good constructive criticism. I'll try to do better with the authors notes and all. As for Bob's death, I do love a good flash back every now and again…

**Babygurl33- **yeah, poor Steve, the only normal one of the group now…

**SodapopCurtisDX- **Glad you like. Yeah, Nates really changed. And as for the greasers finding out… you'll just have to wait and see…

Rate and review pleez

**Bookworm**

Top of Form


	7. Relearning the Rules

**Disclaimer: **I'm not S.E. Hinton. No money am I making off of this. I'm just doing it cause I love to write.

Hi. Sorry I haven't updated in so long. I was working on a play at my school, so that took up most of my after school hours. But the horrid-ness is over now, and I'm back again.

But last time I only got three, count 'em, THREE reviews. Isn't that sad? Well I think so, so if you read please please please review. They keep me goin' with this thing. If you don't like it, review anyway. Flames accepted and criticism appreciated.

Oh yeah, this takes place like ten minutes after the last chapter. On with the show…

_Chapter Seven  
Relearning the Rules_

Two-Bit the pomegranate man sat glued to the TV, which was a blessing, 'cause it actually let me get my homework (stupid as it was) done. Personally, I really didn't know what fruit I'd be, but just for the heck of it, I did put pomegranate. So if I failed, it was all Two-Bit's fault.

Soon after, Pony finished too, and we sat down on the back yard porch to enjoy the peace. Pony said that it wouldn't last for long though; once Soda (God, I still had to get used to that name) and Steve got home from work at the DX, the house would be even louder than it already was. I couldn't imagine how much louder it could get, I mean, they already had the TV and radio blaring, but I hadn't been here long, and I had heard stories of how wild it gets in greaser territory.

"Matt," said Ponyboy, interrupting my thoughts. "I got somethin' to tell ya. I know who you used to be. I saw you around at school before I met ya. You're a soc."

My heart skipped a beat. So he knew. He knew I was a soc. _He knew._

"Um… I'll just be goin' then," I said, then stood up to leave.

"No, you don't understand. You USED to be a soc. I'm not kickin' you out just 'cause of your past. All I'm sayin' is we gotta teach you how to fight, or else your gonna get killed hangin' round here."

I sighed with relief. So he wasn't gonna kick me out.

"But what do ya mean, teach me to fight? I was a soc, I beat up grease… erm, people like you every day."

"But you never fought fair. Next time you get jumped, you're probably gonna be alone. And I don't even wanna think about what would happen to ya if they caught up with you again. It seems like they really wanted to do ya in. They got somethin' against ya?"

I didn't answer at first, but then lied and said, "No, nothin' particular. Just my bein' a greaser I guess."

The next couple of hours were probably the weirdest of my life. It involved Pony pretending to beat me up while I either tried to defend myself or just plain get out of the way. But it seemed as though I was a hopeless cause. I knew Pony noticed it too, but he still didn't give up. Eventually, he went on to teach me what to do if fists weren't good enough defense and if I didn't have a switchblade on me. Apparently broken bottles worked good.

By the time Soda and Steve got home, I was bruised and beaten up a bit, but we still didn't stop.

I was growing more tired as the evening drew nearer. But Pony insisted on one more fight.

Then, "PONY! What the hell are you doin' to this poor kid!"

Oh, god. Darry was home. I was sure that Ponyboy was gonna get it now.

But Pony just walked past him and said, "Nothin', Darry. Just teachin' him how to fight. Exactly the same way you taught me."

Darry just looked surprised and said, "Hey, Matt, wanna stay for dinner?"

"Sure." Nate was still out job searching, and this saved me the trouble of making dinner for just one person. Hey, maybe Pony would teach me how to cook, too. I hoped that wasn't as painful as fighting.

Soon after, we were all crowded around the kitchen table, grabbin' as much food as we could. It was pretty good, 'cept the mashed potatoes, which were orange, don't ask me why. Then, we sat around talkin' for a while.

"Did you really teach Pony how to fight by beatin' him up?" I asked Darry. I knew that probably wasn't a good thing to say around Darry, seein' as he could probably squash me like a bug, but I really wanted to know if this was the only way to know how to fight. There had to be somethin' easier.

To my surprise, Darry laughed. "More or less," he said. "Though I'm pretty sure I didn't hit Pony THAT hard," he said after examining my bruises. "Okay, tomorrow, you're training with me."

_Oh joy._

- - - - -

Author Note: Yes, Pony knows that Matt is a soc. That DOES NOT mean, however, that he knows Matt beat them (him and Johnny) up that day in the park, and that he is basically the source of all their problems. No, I'm not lettin' poor Matty off the hook that easy. Sorry. But the greasers do know that Matt was orphaned in a fire – Nate told Darry when they talked on the phone the day Matt got beat up; when he called, Darry asked for the parents of Matt, and got the story from Nate. He told the gang later. Okay, I hope that clears up some stuff. Thanks for listening to my ramble.

A very special thanks to the reviewers…

**Darkdestiny2000- **Yeah, he really didn't care until he became a greaser himself. Oh, and don't worry, I love to ramble and listen to other people ramble. Ramble away…

**Hahukum Konn- **I was sooo happy to see that I got put on your favorite author list. That really means a lot to me! Yeah, I haven't done much with Two Bit yet, so I thought I'd throw that in. Yeah, he is really random sometimes! I know it's strange, but "pomegranate" is just such a fun word, and I had to use it. Who better to help than Two Bit?

**Babygurl33-** I dunno, but this is Two-Bit we're talkin' about lol. And yeah, I've had teachers like that before, with all the stupid questions…ugh… never questions about fruit before though. But does anyone really care about what my favorite color or animal is. Does that really help anyone get to know me? Does it help me know myself? Don't think so. Oh well, glad you liked that chapter!

**Bookworm**

Top of Form


	8. A Lesson Learned

**Disclaimer: **I'm not S.E.Hinton. She's like the greatest author in the world and I'm…well…not. So there.

Hey, y'all. I'm back with another chapter. May not be that good, but oh well. I feel like postin somethin' just so I can get reviews:) Anyway, here it goes…

On with the show…

_Chapter Eight  
A Lesson Learned_

The next school day went slower than ever, and I was grateful for it. For as soon as school let out, Darry, who had the day off, would be attempting to teach me how to fight. And let's just say that I wasn't looking to forward to that. If training with him was anything like training with Ponyboy, then boy, was I gonna feel the pain tomorrow.

But eventually, the seconds ticked onward until it was finally three o'clock, and the bell rang to go home. I slowly began to walk home with Pony. After the first block, he looked at me skeptically.

"You really think you're gonna be able to hold it off just by walkin' slow?" he asked. "Besides, it's for your own good, you know. How long you think your gonna last here if you don't know how to fight without a whole bunch of soc goons helpin' ya. And I can tell you now that those socs ain't ever gonna be helpin' you again, unless you want help goin' to the hospital." I realized Pony was right, and began to walk at a normal pace.

"Hey," I asked suddenly. "Do the others know. About me bein' a soc I mean."

Ponyboy shook his head. "And I wouldn't just waltz up and tell 'em either. I know you're all right, but the others might not be so keen on havin' you around, if ya catch my drift."

I understood completely, and I vowed to keep my mouth firmly shut.

Finally, we reached the Curtis house.

Before we had even had time to set our bags down, Darry came in and said, "Hurry up and do your homework, Matt."

"Golly," I said. "You sound just like Nate."

"No," Ponyboy corrected. "Nate sounds just like Darry."

I realized he was right. Darry had been doin' this for a lot longer than Nate had. Used to be that Nate didn't give a thought about me, and now, he was my guardian, the only one I had left.

But despite Ponyboy's lecture on the way home from school, I did tend to do my work a little bit slower than usual. But if Darry asked, I could always blame it on Two-Bit, who again had invaded the house and had both the old TV and radio blaring. How one guy could watch so many cartoons was beyond me.

But finally, I had no work left, and had already checked over everything three times. It was time. At least I could get it over with.

_Four Hours Later_

I trumped out of the Curtis's back yard. Darry had been teaching my fighting techniques for hours now, and I was beat. I don't think I could have walked home if I wanted to. If Darry really wanted to make some cash, he should start a self-defense school.

But one part of the training session really stood out in my mind. It was when Darry taught me how to use a switchblade.

I watched with fear as he flicked out the shining silver blade. I remember stepping back. This was just like the knife that killed Bob.

"You…you expect me to be able to knife someone?" I stuttered, shaking my head.

"No," he answered. "I expect you to be able to defend yourself."

But it was all over now, and Darry thought that I could protect myself adequately, at least until someone from the gang came along to help me out.

I plopped down on the couch. Soda, who had been wrestling with Steve and Two-Bit, looked up at me, then at Darry.

"Golly, Darry, I thought you were gonna teach him how to fight, not make him die from exhaustion."

Darry just playfully punched him on the shoulder, then went into the kitchen. To his surprise, it was empty. "Hey!" he yelled through the house. "Whose night was it to cook?"

"Yours, Darry," Sodapop answered, who had Steve in a headlock.

"Crap," he said. "Everyone get in the truck! I'm too tired to cook. We're goin' out to eat tonight. Lets call it a celebration that Matt here can now keep from getting killed whenever a soc walks past him."

Everyone gave a cheer.

"Matt, you wanna call your brother? I'd bet he'll wanna come join us."

I shook my head. "Nope. He's still out job hunting. He had no luck yesterday."

"Job hunting?" asked Soda. "Hey! I bet Steve and me, we could pull a few strings and get him a job at the DX! What do ya think, Steve?"

Steve just shrugged.

"Your brother know anything about cars?" he asked.

"He took some auto classes in school," I said.

"That's good enough for me!" yelled Soda. Wow. Now this really was turning into a celebration.

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "Let's go to Rusty's."

"No," said Darry instantly. "We're gonna go to the Dingo."

"Fine," I said, bein' my stubborn self. "I'll go alone."

"NO!" Ponyboy shouted. He gave Darry a meaningful glance.

"Fine," Darry relented, and we all piled into the bed of the truck.

Soon after, I learned what a terrible mistake I made.

As soon as we entered Rusty's, the socs had us cornered. How could I have been so stupid. Greasers weren't allowed in Rusty's. It was a soc's joint.

But we all managed to get out all right, thanks to the gang's tough reps. And ever since Bob's death, they've all been a little bit more wary of greasers.

Ten minutes later we were all crowded around a table at the Dingo.

"Why did y'all let me do such a stupid thing?" I asked, while shaking salt on my French fries.

"You woulda gone by yourself eventually," explained Darry. "It was better if we all went with ya, so you wouldn't get too banged up. No matter how good you are at fightin' you still can't defend yourself against a restaurant full of socs. No one can. Just remember Matt, you ain't a soc anymore."

So they knew now. And just as Ponyboy said, it made them all a bit more wary.

- - - - -

Yes, they all know he's a soc. Just let me remind you, just so there is no confusion, that they don't know it was his idea to beat up the greasers, which ended up in the deaths of Bob, Johnny and Dally etc. Etc. Just thought I'd clear that up.

Now a great big huge thank you to all the reviewers. I got so many and I was so so so so so excited. If y'all do it again, maybe I'll update sooner.

**Reviewer- **Thanks!

**Locket the Lookout- **Sorry about the confusion! Okay, here's how I think of it. Okay so Bob's eighteen (I may have written it as sixteen in a previous chapter; sorry) and Matt's sixteen. I figured that age didn't really matter in being a soc. If your rich, you're a soc and they are all in league together. All friends and allies. So it wouldn't be that strange for people of different age groups to hang out together as long as their wasn't like a four year age gap or something. And to me 14 is pretty close to sixteen, so that's why Nate assumed Pony and Matt were around the same age. I dunno, maybe Pony grew or somethin.' Thanks for reviewing! And sorry for the confusion. Hopefully that helps clear some things up. Oh ya, I know my chappies are short, but if I make em any longer, I'll have this long novel thing I'll never finish. I already got another one on my hands.

**Steves-girl- **That's okay, I just desprately wanted reviews, and was getting kinda depressed. But I'm Happy now! Thanks though, I'm glad you like it.

**Hahukum Konn**- Yep, I said I'd try to put somethin' up, so here it is. Go you. Every time you send me one of your chapters it inspires me to put at least a little somethin' up.

I know I don't update nearly as much as I should, but you've seen the Leader's apprentice, and I'm trying to focus my energy into that. But still, I should update. Yah, fish out of water. It's interesting to follow Matt's story and a lot of fun. Pomegranate. Makes me laugh too. Next time I see one I'm probably gonna burst out laughing. Then everyone in the produce department will stare. Lol. And training with Darry, yikes. I'm a weakling, and I'd be sore for a month. ;)

**Hawaiichick- **Thanks. Hope this is soon enough for ya. I like watching the former socs meet the greasers. Its a lot of fun to write.

**Sodapop CurtisDX- **Thanks. I was back stage, but I still had to be at every rehersal and it got pretty tiring. But it was kinda cool, cause the beds became the bookshelves, then the shelves became the buildings. But I don't think I could stand listening to one more "ANNIE" song as long as I live. Lol.

**Darkdestiny2000- **Well, I got pleny of reviews for this chapter. Maybe I should beg more often. ;) Ya, I could just imagine Pony beatin' up on Matt, and Matt not knowing whether he should fight his only friend. And as for fighting with Darry… well, I'm just glad I'm not in his shoes!

**Babygurl33- **I'm glad it makes you laugh. Besides, its not much fun bein' serious all the time! Thanks! Hope this is a soon enough update for ya.!

Once again, a big thank you to all who reviewed. I really appreciate it. So please, make me just as happy and review some more. Please? Remember, flames and constructive criticism accepted. Suggestions appreciated.

Thanks for reading. Rate and review pleez,

**Bookworm**

Top of Form


	9. PARTY!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the outsiders. I do own Matt. As much as I need cash, I am making no money off of this.

_Chapter Nine  
PARTY!_

Nate started work at the DX the following day. He was really grateful to receive that job. It seems that none of his job interviews had worked out.

I went to school the next day. As always, I was still wary of the socs, but I felt a little better knowing that I could at least defend myself in a fair fight. But, I had to keep reminding myself, the socs almost never fought fair. So I dared not get too bold.

The days came and went, just as they always did, and I was finally feeling like things were getting back to normal. But I was always relieved when the bell rang to go home.

I met Ponyboy on the front steps of the school. "Come on," I told him. "We're going to do our homework at my house. I don't think that I'd be able to do another assignment with Pomegranate Man." I reached into my school bag and pulled out my psychology assignment. A D-. Nate was gonna kill me.

Ponyboy stifled a laugh.

"I'd like to see what Darry'd do to you if you made a grade like this," I said coldly.

Pony dropped the subject, then said, "So where do you live, anyway?" he asked. "Not too far I hope. Darry's gonna kill me if I go too far away from home and come back after curfew." He shuddered at the mere thought.

"No, I just live down the street from you guys."

"Really?" asked Pony. "I don't remember any of those houses bein' up for sale."

"Hm." I said. "Nate said that we got it real cheap."

"Oh."

"Here," I said. "It's right around the corner."

Pony and I approached my house. I could have sworn I heard him gasp.

"Somethin' wrong?" I asked confused.

"No," he said hastily. "No. Everything's fine. It's just… this house… it has a kinda… unpleasant past. A… friend of mine used to live here."

"Oh." I really didn't know what to say to that. So I just took the key out of my pocket and proceeded to unlock the door.

We sat at the table and did our homework for a while. But then the worst thing that could ever happen happened.

Two-bit came in.

"Oh no," I moaned. There was no way I was EVER going to get any of this work done.

But this time, he was not alone. Steve and Sodapop followed.

"Hey guys," said Pony, unconcerned. "What are you doin' here."

"Shift's over," said Steve.

"Took the day off," said Soda. "Nate was doin' enough work for the both of us anyway."

I nodded. That sounded just like Nate.

"And when we found the house empty, we figured that you were over at Matt's. We knew where it was, 'cause there was only one house up for sale that they could have bought," continued Soda.

"Now," said Two-bit, "There's only one thing left to do."

Oh no. Here it comes, I thought.

"We gotta throw you a WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD PARTY!"

And before another second passed, Two-bit had cranked up the radio and had raided the kitchen for every morsel of food we had.

Nate was going to ground me for life.

And by this time, even Pony was goin' crazy, dancin' to Elvis and the guys were wrestling with each other.

Then Steve took me off to one side to talk. He looked at me sternly. "Look kid," he said, cold eyes glaring at me. "I know what you did."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. He couldn't possibly know… "Know what?" I asked, trying my best to seem innocent.

"Cut it kid," he said. "I know it was you. Nate told me at work today. It's your fault Johnny and Dally died. It's your fault two of our best friends are dead. DEAD, Matt. Don't you understand that!"

"I lost a friend there too you know!" I yelled. "I lost all of mine."

"Well it was your own damn fault!" Steve yelled, and I was surprised that the rest of the gang couldn't hear him over the blarin' Elvis music. "You killed them man. You killed them all. You ever hurt us like that again, man, you're gonna die too. I'll see to it personally…"

"Please," I whispered, voice quaking. "Don't tell the others. Y'all are all I have left now."

Steve nodded. "But you put one toe out of line, you're dead."

Cautiously, I stepped back into the den, where the greasers were partying like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't believe that they could party this hard without booze.

But I was shaken up by Steve's talk, and it took a while before I was finally able to enjoy myself.

Nate came home a couple hours later. Seeing the mess, he yelled, "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened!"

"My friends came over," I said simply, and I passed out on the couch.

- - - - -

Hey y'all. I'd just like to thank my THREE, count 'em, only THREE reviewers. Thank y'all for bein' so faithful to me. But if you read the story please please please please review. Remember, flames accepted, just as long as they contain constructive critisism.

**Hahukum Konn- **Yep, Matt was actin' really dumb. But he's learned his lesson.

**Darkdestiny2000- **yep, you were right. Steve's gonna be keepin' a real close eye on Matt from now on.

**Sodapop CurtisDX- **I woulda run farther than Texas…. I'd have run to Alaska. Lol. Anyway, I think I'd die if I heard another Annie song…. Ugh.

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Bookworm**

Top of Form


	10. Stunts and Stories

**Disclaimer: **And, as always, I don't own any of this.

Hey, y'all. Just got back from vacation, and I'm ready to write! A big thank you to Hahukum Konn for beta-ing this chapter and giving me permission to use his character.

_Chapter Ten  
Stunts and Stories_

Nate woke me up early the next morning. "You," said sternly, "are gonna clean up this mess that you and your wonderful friends made."

I shrugged, nonchalant. I figured that I owed it to these guys to let them tear up my house at least once. After all, they had saved my ass on more than one occasion, and without them, I'd be lookin' over my shoulder all the time, fearing more wrath from my old gang.

Nate, noticing that his punishment had no effect on me whatsoever, started yelling at me again. "I can't believe you let them do this. Look," he opened up one of the cabinets. "They ate most of our food, Matt! You know how hard money is to come by!"

This started to make me mad. Not the fact that he was complaining about money, but the fact that he was yelling at me. "You never used to yell at me when Mom and Dad were around," I accused.

"Well, sorry to break this to ya, but Mom and Dad aren't here anymore, so you had better fuckin' get used to it!"

"I can't believe you!" I yelled back. "Don't you know what day it is?"

"Enlighten me," he said sarcastically.

I pointed to the calendar. "It's been one month now." I said quietly, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice.

"So what!" he yelled. I couldn't believe how hard and cold he had become. "Missing them isn't going to make them come back."

I couldn't stay here with my heartless older brother. I ran out the door. There was no way I could stay. And I wasn't going to school either.

I wandered aimlessly around the town, careful to stay out of both soc and greaser territory. If I landed in a place with socs, I would get killed, since I didn't have the sense enough to bring a switchblade with me. Greasers could be just as dangerous, especially if Steve had told someone else about my past. Even worse, one of the gang might find me and convince me to go back to school.

I hung around the middle class area, the neutral zone, for hours, just wandering, thinking. Thinking about how cruel reality was, taking my parents from me. Thinking about how different things could be. Thinking about the rivalry against socs and greasers.

Thinking about how I would ever be able to face Nate again.

I glanced around. Even though I was still in neutral territory, I was still wary. Nothin' harmful, thank god. Only other living being out was some kid mowin' a lawn.

Nothin' harmful, at least until a couple of streets down. Then, I heard those fatal words.

"Hey guys, look over there. It's that greaser who led a parade into Rusty's! Let's teach him a lesson!"

With no blade and five to one odds, I had no chance. I just lay there, a half dead boy in an ally.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Holy shit!" I heard someone call out. Though my eyes were blurred, I could just barely make out the kid I had passed by who had been mowin' the lawn. He cursed the socs, knowing that they were the only people who could beat someone up that bad.

I couldn't even lift any of my leaden limbs, much less tell him who I was and where I came from. Knowing how bad off I was, he dug through my wallet and pulled out my ID.

"Don't worry, man," he said. "I'll go ask Jerry if I can borrow his car, then I'll take you home."

Relieved, I passed out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What the heck were you doin'?" asked Ponyboy, "Skippin' school and walkin' all alone without even a blade to protect ya. I'm sorry, Matt, but that was just plan DUMB. What's wrong with you?"

"It's been a month, okay! One whole fuckin' month since my parent's died! Doesn't anyone understand that!"

Ponyboy nodded. "Come on. I got somethin' to show you." He took me to his room and handed me a folder, thick with handwritten papers. "This year, I've lost a lot of things. This was how I dealt with it."

I opened the folder and quietly began to read.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That evening, everyone sat around the kitchen table, eating green macaroni and cheese. Green.

"So," I asked. "Who was that guy who found me in the alley and how did he know to bring me here."

"He tried to drop you off at your house, but since Nate was at work, no one was home. He knew we lived on the same street, so he just dropped you off here," said Darry, glancing skeptically at our deformed dinner. "He's an old friend of ours; his name's Shawn."

"That Shawn is one weird guy," Two-bit commented seriously. "Claims he's from the future or somethin'."

I laughed. Two-Bit Mathews had to be the "weirdest guy" I had ever met.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sodapop approached me later that night.

"Hey," he said. "I learned about your little scrap with Nate at work today. And I think you should apologize."

"WHAT?" I asked. How could Soda possibly side with Nate?

"He's lost just as much as you have," he said. "They were his parents too. He lost his future too, Matt. I can tell, he woulda made it far in college, but everything was taken away from him. You still have that chance. His is gone. Matt, we greasers, we don't have money, or fancy clothes, or Mustangs, but what we do have, it's worth a lot more than that.

"Matt, you have a brother who loves you. Family and friend is all we greasers have. Without that, man, we have nothin'. You're welcome to the couch for tonight," he said. "But tomorrow, I want you to go home and make up with your brother."

I saw the truth in his words. " 'Kay."

"Good."

I curled up on the couch, my bed for the night, and picked up Ponyboy's folder again. I was nearly finished now…

I read the final paragraph.

"I sat down and picked up my pen and thought for a minute. Remembering. Remembering a handsome, dark boy with a reckless grin and a hot temper. A tough, tow-headed boy with a cigarette in his mouth and a bitter grin on his face. Remembering—and this time it didn't hurt—a quiet, defeated-looking sixteen year old whose hair needed cutting badly and who had black eyes with a frightened expression to them. One week had taken all three of them…"

Quietly, I wept into my pillow. It was true. Never before had the greasers I had beaten up seemed so real to me. And it was my fault that they were gone. After all Pony had done for me, I had taken away these guys, these humans, with thoughts, feelings, and souls. They were his friends. And now, they just weren't there.

Four words rang through my head.

_It's all my fault._

- - - - -

**If y'all are interested to see where Shawn came from and what his story is, check out the Outsiders ff.n story _Unplanned Journey_ by Hahukum Konn. It's a must read.**

Now for the reviews….

**Sungirl- **Any reviewer is a good reviewer…

**Hahukum Konn- **yep, it's Johnny's house. Thanks again for letting me use Shawn, and thanks for beta-ing my novels as well! Reading what I write has to be a very tedious task.

**Babygurl33- **Thanks! Yeah, ffn does seem to do funny things like that. Oh well…

**Steves-girl- **Sorry! I didn't mean to make you feel bad! I just wanted reviews. Thanks for reviewing chapter seven too, that made me feel better about my meager amount.

**Darkdestiny2000- **Ya, steve is probably my least favorite character too. You don't get to know much about him, and he's always givin' Ponyboy a hard time. I love Two Bit; he's just so much fun to write.

**Bookworm**

Top of Form


	11. Supper with Soda

**Disclaimer: **The Outsiders is © S.E.Hinton. I own Matt and Nate. Hahukum Konn owns Shawn, and I use him only with Hahukum's kind permission. I make no cash. Though I really need some. I have a 500-dollar schoolbook fee.

Yay! Fanfiction finally fixed itself! I can post and get reviews! Whoopee!

_Chapter Eleven  
Supper With Soda_

Just as Soda said I should, I went back home the next morning, instead of hitchhiking all the way to Cleveland. But when I stepped out into the yard, I saw an unfamiliar sight. Planted right smack dab in the middle of our tiny front yard, there was a sign. "ROOM FOR RENT," it said.

"Hello, Matt," said Nate curtly when he saw me walk into the door. I realized that he was trying his best not to yell at me, but I could tell it was a challenge for him.

I glared at him. "You better not dare be renting out my room," I said, trying to remain calm. I couldn't believe it. My own brother…

He laughed shortly. "I see you've seen the sign."

"You bet I've seen the sign, and you know what, I…"

"Hold your horses Matty-boy, it's not your room I'm renting out. It's the spare in the back of the house. Mom and Dad would never forgive me if I kicked out my own kid brother…"

_Mom and Dad. So perhaps he still did care._

"Besides," added Nate. "Your room is in no fit state to rent out anyway. It's a pigsty, the way you keep it."

Nate picked up his breakfast dishes up off the kitchen table and dumped them in the sink. But to my surprise, he didn't wash them. He just left them there.

"I'm late," he said shortly. He turned to the door to leave. But before he did he called back, "By the way, you're grounded. No movies, no dates, no friends, no leaving the house, got it? And when I get back from work today, I expect to find this house _spotless_; we can't expect to find a boarder if this house is a mess."

"What did I do?" I asked, horrified.

"You cut school," he answered, then left to go to the DX.

I started swearing under my breath, but it was pretty clear that if I did not do as Nate said, I'd get belted later on. Best to just do it now, before I got in real trouble.

_Eight Hours Later…_

Oh my God, I thought. I had never in my wildest dreams thought that one house could be so goddamn messy. I had to wash and dry all the dishes, change the sheets on the beds, vacuum the house, do all the laundry (which was an incredibly enormous amount for only two people) dust the furniture, pick up all the trash lying around (mostly from Two-Bit's welcome to the neighborhood party), and clean out all the closets.

After lugging out what seemed to be the millionth trash bag to the curb, I sunk down on the couch. I sighed, relieved. I was finally done. Boy, Nate had better appreciate this…

My stomach growled. I hadn't even stopped for lunch in my cleaning frenzy. Breakfast at the Curtises seemed so long ago.

Though I was exhausted, I heaved myself up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen. I dug though the cabinets and through the refrigerator, trying to find something I could eat. I sunk down into a kitchen chair, exasperated. Who was I trying to kid? I couldn't cook to save my life.

"Boo!" came a voice behind me. I turned with a start. For a brief second, I thought a soc had entered though the unlocked door.

I turned around and faced the intruder.

Phew. It was only Soda. Thank God. I really should remember to lock that door…

"Hiya Matt!" he said, grinning.

"Soda," I said, "as much as I would like you to hang around, I'm grounded. If Nate caught you here, he would…"

Sodapop held up his hand to stop me. "Nate," he said, matter-of-factly, "is not here. Nate is working the night shift. Nate will not be home until at least ten o'clock. So," he continued, "what have you been doing this fine evening?"

"I've been cleaning," I said shortly. "Now I'm tryin' to find somethin' to eat."

Soda looked horrified. "Don't you tell me that you don't know how to cook?"

I shrugged. "It's not that I don't know how. I've just never had to cook before, that's all."

He looked at me skeptically. "Uh huh." He gave me another one of his reckless, movie star grins and turned towards the cabinets, pulling out ingredients.

"Shouldn't you be cooking supper at your own house?" I asked. God only knows what I was getting myself into…

"Nope! Darry is still at work and Pony went to the Nightly Double with Two-Bit. It's just you and me."

_Oh great…_

Deftly, Soda started pouring ingredients into a bowl.

"Soda, what are you making, anyway?"

"Soda Surprise!" he exclaimed. "Now, for the final ingredient." He slipped a small bottle of dark liquid out of his jean pocket. He popped open the lid, squirted in a couple of drops, and stirred.

I watched for a moment. Great. It was food dye. Orange food dye.

Soda popped it into the oven, grinning. Then we went to watch TV.

_An hour later…_

"Hey, Soda?" I asked. "What was that noise?"

"Dunno, probably just a cat knockin' over a trash can or somethin.' And with all the trash that's out on your curb, that wouldn't be too hard to trip over."

I laughed. "Hey, I wonder if dinner's ready."

The two of us walked into the kitchen. Then I took a look at the room, horrified.

As it turned out, it hadn't been some cat knockin' over a trash can. It had been our oven door. It had burst open when, well, whatever Soda was making, exploded. Yes, I mean it, it exploded. The orange goo spilled out of the oven and all over the floor. Great globs of the stuff stuck to the walls and ceiling.

"Soda, did you happen to put any yeast into your… creation?" I asked shakily.

"Maybe," he said slowly.

"How much did you use?"

"I dunno, a couple of packs, I think."

_A couple of packs._ I might not have known much about cooking but I knew you just didn't put that damn much yeast into something.

"Nate's gonna kill me," I moaned. I grabbed a mop out of the broom closet. I should at least try to get some of this stuff cleaned up before he came home and decided to belt me…

Just then, I heard a knock at the door.

"Come in!" called Soda.

Oh great. Could this possibly get any worse?

"Um, hi," said the newcomer. "I saw the sign in the yard and I wanted to rent a room in the area… Holy crap! What the hell happened in here?"

"Hi Shawn," said Soda.

_Shawn_. I looked at the guy and found that it really was the guy who had brought me home after being jumped, given that Soda already knew his name.

"Soda, did you try to cook again?" Shawn asked. I noticed that he had a strange accent. Sorta northern-ish, though he kept his r's in. He had a slight Tulsa drawl though, as if he had been here just long enough to kinda catch on. Weird.

Sodapop had the good grace to look a little bit sheepish as he nodded to Shawn, who groaned and started muttering something about product warning labels.

"Come on, you guys," Shawn said. "We'd better get this place cleaned up. No telling how hard this stuff will stick if we leave it till morning."

Two hours later, we had the kitchen cleaned, and something decent to eat in the oven. Soda, not wanting to cause me any more trouble, had gone home. Shawn and I were sitting at the table cutting up some meatloaf when Nate came home.

"Matt, I'm home," he called as he entered the house. "And this house had better be… who the heck are you?" Nate asked, entering the kitchen, pointing to Shawn.

"Nate," I said, "we've got ourselves a boarder."

Thank the stars he never knew about our orange exploding dinner fiasco.

- - - - -

Again, a big thank you to Hahukum Konn who let me use Shawn and also beta-ed this chapter. Plus, he puts up with my mindless jabber, so he gets extra points for that. :) He also corrected some of my facts, and added some humor. Thanks!

Anyway, now that ff.n is working, I expect reviews. Thanks to those of y'all who were able to review though.

**Hahukum Konn- **Glad it made you laugh. Hope this one did too.

**Darkdestiny2000- **Thanks. Yep, ff.n broke itself again. That needs to stop. But yeah, Matt is finally seein' the consequences of his actions.

**Bookworm**

Top of Form


	12. ITs a GREASER HALLOWEEN

**Disclaimer: **The Outsiders is © S.E.Hinton. I own Matt and Nate. Hahukum Konn owns Shawn, and I use him only with Hahukum's kind permission.

Sorry it's been so long, y'all!

_Chapter Twelve  
It's a Greaser Halloween!_

Shawn Daggett moved into the extra bedroom. For a while I thought it would be a drag havin' an extra person in the house, but Shawn turned out to be really cool. He spent most of his day sleepin' and hangin' out at the Curtis house or mowin' lawns; he went to school now too. Eventually, Nate un-grounded me, more out of annoyance than anything else. I guess he got tired of my pacing around the room like a caged animal or something, so eventually he told me to get out of the house before I drove him 'round the twist.

I walked home from school with Ponyboy on October thirty-first to find the Curtis house completely transformed, as though it happened overnight. Jack o Lanterns and chains made of orange and black crepe paper covered the outside of the house, and fake tombstones and old chicken bones littered the yard.

Surprised, Pony and I entered the house, and found that Soda had taken off work, and he and Two-Bit (who obviously didn't work) had spent the day decorating the house for all the little trick or treaters who would raid the house for candy later that night.

Soda was in the kitchen making cookies, though this time, the dough was _not_ splattered all over the walls, the ceiling and the doors like it had been at my house last time Soda had tried to cook. And this time, (since it was Halloween) the cookies were SUPPOSED to be orange. Though how Soda had any more orange food dye left was beyond my comprehension.

While we were in the kitchen, I noticed Two-Bit attempt to slip out of the house undetected.

"Hey Matthews? Where do ya think you're goin?" I asked. "You're not going to leave us here to do all the bakin' alone are ya?"

"I'm sure you can do plenty well without me," said Two-bit, cracking one of his trademark grins, though this one had a kind of sly air to it.

"Where ya goin'?" asked Pony.

"You'll see!" Two-bit called, slammin' the door behind him.

"Wonder what's up with him," said Soda as he started makin' a new bowl full of cookie dough batter, while me and Pony were busy licking the extra dough from the bowl and spoon.

Six dozen cookies later, Soda, Pony and I were sitting at the kitchen table drinking extra-chocolate milk and makin' more paper chains. The house was already covered inside and out with 'em, but we figured a few more couldn't hurt.

Soon after, Steve came in, followed by Darry.

"Looks great, you guys," said Darry. Apparently, all this decorating was usual at this time of the year.

"Thanks," said Soda, grinning.

We basically lounged around all day, drinkin' Pepsis and eating chocolate cake, watching all the horror movies that came on today. Shawn and even Nate joined in later in the afternoon, laughing at the fakeness of some of the old horror flicks, intently watching the others. We ate nearly all the cake and potato chips in the house, but Soda guarded his cookies with his life, claiming they were for the "cute little trick or treaters."

Sometime in the middle of "Frankenstein," Two-Bit came in, carrying a huge bag that he was sure to keep well hidden from the rest of us. After he greeted us, he retreated to the back of the house. No one but me took much notice of it, perhaps it was because they were all used to him acting so weird. But I was new at all this greaser stuff. So I tried to ignore him as he went into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Soon, darkness engulfed the city in its inky blackness, and Darry went outside to light the Jack o Lanterns (he didn't trust Soda with the matches; I personally didn't know if I could trust Soda with anything).

He had just returned to the couch when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" called Soda, jumping up, grabbing his plate of orange cookies. He opened the door, and the sound of "TRICK OR TREAT," could be heard easily above the volume of the television.

"One for you, and you, and you," said Soda, passing out cookies.

I glanced through the door at the little kids. I had to admit, they WERE pretty cute. All were dressed in homemade costumes, some were astronauts, princesses, Elvis impersonators, as well as various other things. One was even dressed up as a giant lobster!

You could tell they were all greasers, and for a while, I wondered why no rich kids were here, like they were in my old neighborhood. Then I remembered I lived on the wrong side of the tracks now, the other side of town, and that no soc parent in their right mind would drive their kids to this side of town at night just to get candy and sweets.

Well, I thought, they are just gonna miss out on Soda's cookies.

I watched as some of the kids snuck a bite of cookie before depositing the rest in the pillow cases they carried to hold their candy. Apparently Soda was famous for more than just his good looks.

Just then, Two-bit popped out of the bathroom. I jumped, surprised. Two-bit was dressed exactly like the one, the only, MICKEY MOUSE!

Now seeing a nearly grown man dressed as Mickey Mouse was enough to scare the hell out of any sane person, and the kids at the door screamed and ran away.

We all stared at him.

"Well?" he asked. "What do you think?"

"Umm," said Darry. "It's… great."

"What do ya think, Matt?" he asked.

I just stood there, gaping.

Shawn hastily stood up before he could be asked his opinion, claiming that he had to go to work, and slipped away before he could be questioned. It was only a day later that i realized that he didn't work at the sawmill anymore like he told me he used to, so he really didn't have anywhere to go. But I personally wished that I could have come up with an excuse that fast.

But I swore I heard him mutter, "I'm never going to understand this holiday."

I laughed as he exited. The holiday was fine. It was Two-Bit I would never understand.

- - - - -

Okay, I know its short, but lets just say the magic plot fairy has been evading me.

On to the reviews.

**Hahukum Konn- **I'M BAAAACK!

**Angel02- **Thanks!

**Sodapop CurtisDX- **Yeah, this site does tend to go screwy sometimes. Thanks. I know I haven't really updated soon, but, meh….

**Darkdestiny2000- **Thanks

**Steves-girl- **Thanks

**Raveangel33- **Oh, you just wait. I sense rumbles in the future…

Rate and review please.

**Bookworm**

Top of Form


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **The Outsiders is © S.E.Hinton. I own Matt and Nate. Hahukum Konn owns Shawn, and I use him only with Hahukum's kind permission.

_Chapter Thirteen  
Turkeys and Trouble_

The final sunlight of October faded into the wetness of November just like it had every year since I could remember. Days became shorter and nights became longer; perhaps that's why it felt like the beginning of November was speeding by. In what seemed like a week to me, it was already over halfway through the month, November 25th two days before Thanksgiving.

That was when Nate thrust some money in my hands and told me I was to buy a turkey for the big day. "Get a ten pound turkey from the grocery store," he commanded, getting ready to head off to work with Steve and Sodapop. He had been saving a bit of money each week until we had enough to get a good feast goin'. "And don't screw it up," he said, exiting the house.

Shawn laughed as he came out of his bedroom, fully dressed and ready for a day of just hanging around. "What does he think you're going to do?" he asked. "Lose the turkey or something?"

"Dunno," I said, grinning. "Maybe he's afraid I'm gonna turn it _orange_, or something."

We both laughed our heads off at that; Nate still hadn't found out about Soda destroying our kitchen, though he had found some orange grime on the handle of the refrigerator and questioned its appearance, though he finally convinced himself it was a strange kind of mold and spent his next day off scrubbing every nook and cranny of the kitchen, much to our amusement.

"Want some company?" Shawn asked, grinning slyly. "Maybe I'll keep you from losing our supper."

"Sure," I said. Downtown Tulsa, where the supermarket was, was pretty neutral territory, though it still wasn't a bad idea to have someone else with you. There was a mall around there that was primarily a soc hang out, and it wouldn't be particularly surprising to get jumped. "Nate hitched a ride with Steve and Soda, so do ya wanna take the truck or do ya wanna walk?"

"Walking sounds good," said Shawn, "It finally stopped raining."

He was right, this was the first day in like two weeks it hadn't rained at least a little bit. The ground was a bit slushy though, so we pulled on our boots before we did anything else.

We walked down the partially frozen sidewalk for about a mile or so, enjoying the icy light of winter. We didn't notice the Mustang that trailed us for a good half mile, a Mustang that happened to hold one of my former "friends", nor did I know that Shawn had also been acquainted with him on his first day in Tulsa. Needless to say it hadn't been a very good meeting, as he explained to me later.

The Mustang sped away right when we got to the store, and only then did I notice it. But I hadn't been able to see who was in it, or know that they would be coming back, so I hadn't thought there was any danger. At least not then.

---------

Ten minutes later, I had spent all the money Nate had given me on a ten pound bird, just like he said, and Shawn and I were taking turns carrying it as we trudged home through the slush, being careful not to slip and fall on hidden patches of ice.

We were about half-way home when we noticed the mustang slowly trailing us, this time filled with Socs.

"What should we do?" I asked. We weren't near any of the gang's houses, or the DX, or anything for that matter, so there was no place to run to.

"Just stay cool," said Shawn. "Maybe they'll pass us by."

But I knew they wouldn't, and I had a feeling he knew too. We were sitting ducks, and all we could do was wait for it to be over.

Like a pack of angry dogs, they circled around us, the circle getting smaller and smaller with each rotation.

It was then I remembered.

I used to be one of them. Only a few months ago I was a soc, looking for innocent greasers to beat up on. This was exactly what we did to what's-his-name, Ponyboy's friend from the composition.

Johnny.

And I had caused all of it.

In a matter of seconds, I was on the ground, being kicked by my used to be friends, bruised and bloodied by my past.

And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I groped in my back pocket, hoping to find a switchblade there, something to help, but it was empty. And I knew who had it now.

One of the socs flicked it open with practiced ease, and I saw it heading for my throat.

Instantly, I flung the only thing I had on me, which happened to be a ten pound turkey, in front of my face.

It probably saved my life.

--------

We trudged home later, miserable and alone. After a while, the socs left us for dead. "Damn," said Shawn. "Knew that Mustang looked familiar. It was the same one those socs were driving the day I came into town."

Crud, I thought. Now they were after my friends too. It seemed as though Miles had taken up Bob's mantle as leader of the socs.

It was dark now, and cold, and neither of us had on jackets heavy enough to withstand the cold. Plus they had taken the turkey. Nate was going to kill me.

We went to the Curtis house first, and told them what happened. Apparently we looked pretty bad, 'cause when we came in, Steve exclaimed, "What the hell happened to you?"

After we were all cleaned up, I found the rest of the gang in the living room, talking in low voices too each other.

"So it's decided," Steve said. "Soda and I'll go round up Shepard's gang, tell them the news." He made a fist and slammed it into his other opened hand. "This is going to be a rumble those socs aren't gonna soon forget."

A rumble, I thought. Oh no.

--------- _A day later…_

"Absolutely not!" yelled Nate, his voice echoing through the kitchen. "You're grounded for losing the turkey! You think I'm gonna let you out at night just so you can get yourself killed? I left you the truck for a reason! If I had wanted you to walk don't you think I would have told you?"

Nate yelled for about an hour longer, before finally giving up and sending me to my room. Shawn had already headed out for the rumble. And I had a plan.

Nate was already asleep, so I threw back my curtains and opened the window, and climbed outside, heading for the lot.

-----------

"Are you crazy!" asked Ponyboy, sounding so much like Nate that it was beginning to scare me. "If your brother finds another mark on you he'll skin you. He told you not to fight!"

I saw the sense in this, and decided to sit this one out.

I watched from the sidelines though, and cheered with everyone else when the various greaser gangs that showed up defeated the socs, guaranteeing our safety for at least a week.

Though I still couldn't believe that I had caused all of this.

And only Ponyboy heard the socs say, "Next time, we're going to get Matt good."

--------

We spent thanksgiving at the Curtises' house. Apparently Ponyboy had told Darry about our turkey dilemma, and he invited Nate and me as well as Shawn to share their food with the rest of the gang. At first, Nate had politely refused for the both of us, but after a little bit of persuasion from both me and Darry, we finally had him convinced.

As we all sat around the table, Darry said, "Once upon a time, eight people sat at this table, and it pleases me to have eight people dining here again."

And with that, we all dug in.

I was quiet well through the meal, thinking. I had great reasons to be thankful. First, in my time of need, I had found the Curtises and the gang. Second, even if Mom and Dad were gone, I still had Nate. And, after all the beatings I had endured, I was still alive. Which was a surprise, cause even these greasers, though most of them didn't know it, had the right to kill me. But Steve kept reminding me, sending fierce glares across the table when he thought no one was looking.

He knew it was all my fault.

But as we were enjoying pumpkin pie as we watched TV, Ponyboy called me over to him. He paused for a moment before saying, "The socs seem to be hitting hard on you in particular. You haven't erm… done anything to make them… mad, have you?"

"No," I said hastily. "Nothing." And I turned away.

- - - - -

A big thank you to Hahukum Konn, who, as well as betaing for me, and being a faithful reviewer, has very graciously let me steal Shawn for my story. THANKS!

Thanks to the reviewers as well. Only a chapter or so left to go guys, so keep em coming!

Hahukum Konn- Thanks for reviewing and betaing and stuff! Yeah, If two-bit came up to me in a mickey mouse suit, I'd probably call the police!

Darkdestiny2000- Thanks! And Soda went a little bit over board with the food dye. Again.

Dirtyd488- Yes indeed, a giant lobster. My aunt gave me that idea, she said she always wanted to do it. Thanks! I'm honored to have a word made up for my story!

**Bookworm**

Top of Form


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **The Outsiders is © S.E.Hinton. I own Matt and Nate. Hahukum Konn owns Shawn, and I use him only with Hahukum's kind permission.

_Chapter Fourteen  
The Christmas Call_

It was now December, in the middle of the Holiday break. Darry, Soda, Steve, and Nate were at work, and Two-bit was baby sitting his kid sister since she didn't have school. Pony, Shawn, and I were just hanging around the Curtis house. It wasn't like we had anything specific to do. So basically we were lounging around on the couch, watching TV, listening to the radio, reading, doing whatever we felt like.

It was nearly Christmas now, and a sullen feeling was beginning to creep through my and Nate's house; this was going to be our first Christmas without Mom and Dad.

I glanced at the corner of the room, where a small Christmas tree sat alone, under which sat a meager pile of presents. It was at times like this that I missed having money.

"Hey Shawn?" I asked suddenly, remembering something.

He looked up from the TV. "Yeah?"

"Aren't you going to spend Christmas with your family or something?" I asked. I had noticed that he hadn't packed at all, and I had never heard him mention anything at all about his family. Surely he had parents or something somewhere….

"No," he said quickly. "They're dead." He said it very flatly, no emotion in his voice. "They died on their farm in North Dakota, a little while after I left."

"Sorry," I said.

Shawn just raised and lowered one shoulder, then returned his eyes to the TV.

"You wanna hear something funny?" I asked them, trying to lighten up the mood. "When I first met Shawn, Two-bit said that Shawn claimed he was from the future or somethin'. Ain't that weird?"

I noticed Ponyboy look up from the red and green paper chain he was making and glance up with raised eyebrows at Shawn, who frowned and returned his gaze. They seemed to make a decision then, 'cause Shawn looked at me and shrugged, saying, "Well, you know Two-Bit. Always coming up with some crazy thing or another."

I laughed, remembering Two-Bit and the pomegranate, though I felt as though they were hiding something for me.

We sat in silence again for a moment, Shawn sitting in the old, overstuffed armchair, Pony sitting cross legged on the floor, a huge paper chain coiled like a snake around him, strips of red and green paper littering the floor, a pack of glue sticks beside him. I was stretched out on the couch, yawning leisurely, experiencing the joy of not having to do anything I didn't feel like doing.

"You know what's been bothering me?" Ponyboy asked me, out of the blue.

"No, what?"

"You, my friend," he said matter-of-factly, "look absolutely _nothing_ like a greaser."

"What?" I asked, confused. "I'm not a middle-classer, and I definitely ain't no soc." At least not anymore, I thought.

"You don't look like a greaser," Ponyboy repeated. He got up and descended to the bathroom, then returned with a comb and a tube of something or another.

"I remember when I got all greased up," said Shawn, amused. "Two-Bit did it. Lifted some clothes and stuff from the thrift store down on the corner."

I had gotten my clothes from the same thrift store after the fire, though Nate had paid for mine, so I personally didn't see what the problem was.

"Then came the grease," he said.

Instantly, I felt something cool and slimy being run through my hair, and I realized Ponyboy had been attacking my head with the comb and hair grease, which was what was in the tube.

Finally, he stepped back to examine his creation. He looked at me skeptically for a moment, then said, "It'll do. It'll look better once you grow your hair out a bit."

Shawn grinned at me. "Now you're all dressed up for Christmas!" he said.

I rolled my eyes. Nate was going to have a good laugh at me tonight. Either that, or he'd get mad. Don't ask me why he would, that just sounded like something he would do. But either way, it would be rather amusing.

"Speaking of dressing up for Christmas…" said Ponyboy. "This house could sure use a bit of decorating…."

Ten minutes later, Ponyboy had raided the attic. The tiny Christmas tree had been given a decorative tree skirt wrapped around the base and Pony's long paper chain had been draped across the branches. A few old Christmas balls had also made their way to the tree, some dating back to decades before Ponyboy was born. A few of them had dates painted on them; one had the Curtis parents' names on it, saying "our first Christmas" and listing a date some twenty-five years previously. There were Pony, Soda, and Darry's first Christmas ornaments, and others that belonged to Pony's grandparents.

We arranged an old, hand carved wooden nativity scene on the mantle, above a couple of faded and patched Christmas stockings. We threw some garlands and holly around too, arguing where to put it, then finally added a star to the top of the Christmas tree.

Eventually, Pony and I hauled a ladder out of the garage and leaned it up against the roof, and were finally able to convince a skeptical Shawn to staple Christmas lights to the roof while I held the latter and Pony untangled the huge ball of lights he had unearthed from the various detritus of the attic.

"If I fall," said Shawn, stapling some of the lights onto the roof, "you two are paying for my hospital bill."

"Then don't fall," Ponyboy yelled back up.

From outside, we just barely heard the ringing of the phone inside.

"I'll get it," said Pony, abandoning his post as light-untangler and running into the house.

"He'd better come back soon," said Shawn. "I'd prefer to get down off of this ladder as soon as possible."

"Matt!" Ponyboy called from the door, "It's for you!"

I too left, leaving Shawn calling for someone to come back and hold the ladder, and grabbed the receiver from Pony's hand.

"Hello?" I asked, wondering who would know to find me at the Curtis house.

"Thank God," came a familiar voice. "I've been calling all over the place for you. I couldn't reach you at your house, so I figured you might be over there…"

"Steve?" I asked. Since when did Steve want to talk to me?

"Yeah, listen, you gotta get down to the station now!"

- - - - -

Muwahahahaha. Aren't I evil, a short chapter and a cliffy all in one. Now, I'll make a deal with y'all. The more reviews I get, the sooner I'll update. Thanks to the magic counter thing in the login page, I know I'm getting more hits than reviews, so if your reading this, PLEASE REVIEW! I'm on my last chapter and possibly and epilogue now, so. Remember Flames excepted, as well as somewhat expected. So now a big thanks to **Hahukum Konn,** who puts up with these chapters unbetaed, then betas them, and allows me to leave Shawn hanging around on the Curtis' roof. Another thank you to those of you who actually DO review…..

Hahukum Konn- Here it is, hope you like it. And thanks for betaing for me, you really help a lot. Ah, the end is near….

Darkdestiny2000- Yes, I agree, poor Matt. And the worst is yet to come. Though I'm afraid Nate won't exactly be joining the gang anytime soon….

Aoki-chan- Yeah, I figured I could put the Turkey to a good use, even if it was going to be taken by the socs. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you liked the update.

**Bookworm**

Top of Form


	15. The Final Fight

**Disclaimer: **The Outsiders is © S.E.Hinton. I own Matt and Nate. Hahukum Konn owns Shawn, and I use him only with Hahukum's kind permission.

Okay, since this is the last chapter, I'm posting the reviews first.

Hahukum Konn- Sorry about that, he does eventually get down, as you will soon see. Thanks for being such an awesome beta, and allowing me to abuse your character! Thanks for all your help.

Locket the Lookout- Yeah, I do get that a lot ;) I tend to kill off my characters quite often, as Hahukum can tell you.

Aoki-Chan- Yes, poor Shawn. But he does get down eventually…. Thanks for reviewing, and I'm glad you finally managed to get off your roof after hanging xmas lights! And as for Nate being dead…. Read on, read on.

A/N: A final thank you to the faithful Hahukum Konn, who not only listens to me griping about not getting reviews, but actually reviews himself, as well as betas. He also actually _wrote_ some of this chapter. Now you just can't ask for a better beta reader than that. THANKS!

_Chapter Fifteen  
The Final Fight_

I ran to the DX, not knowing what to expect. Never before had I heard Steve like that. There was something strange about his voice; as best as I could tell it was a mixture of anger, confusion, and sadness. He was frantic, insisted that I get over there as fast as I could. So I ran.

……_At the DX……_

Police were everywhere, questioning people and writing on their notepads, telling people to get out of the way, and securing the perimeter, surrounding everything with their huge roll of yellow police tape.

I managed to slip through unnoticed though, and entered the main building of the DX, since most of the police were surrounding the garage. I had to find Soda, or Nate, or even Steve. I had to figure out what was going on.

"Matt," someone hissed. "In here."

I turned and saw Steve beckoning to me from the office.

"What's going on?" I asked, confused. "Why do you need me? If you've been robbed or something, I don't think I can… wait a second. Where the heck is Nate?"

Steve bowed his head.

"Uh uh," I said, shaking my head, disbelieving. "No way. Nothing happened to Nate. Nothing can hurt Nate…. Can it?" I asked.

He said nothing for a moment, until I glared at him and said, "WHAT HAPPENED TO NATE?"

Finally, he said, "He was workin' on a car…"

"I coulda figured that much out on my own!" I shouted. "After all, IT"S HIS JOB!"

"Kid, if you don't shut the hell up, you can just find out from the police!" he said, glaring at me.

"Fine," I muttered. "So what's going on!"

"It was the socials, man," he said. "He was under a car working, and those damn socs knocked the jacks from underneath the wheels. The whole damn car fell on him!" he screamed.

"You don't mean…."

"Yep," he said sadly. "He's gone. Such a good man, and he's gone."

He thrust a wadded up piece of paper into my hand. Once my shaking hands uncurled it, I took me several tries before I was able to comprehend its meaning.

"YOU'LL BE NEXT, GREASE!" it said. Instantly, I dropped it.

And I ran.

---------------

"Matt! What's the matter?" asked Ponyboy. He was sitting on the couch with a disgruntled looking Shawn.

"He's dead," I said, voice cracking.

"Who's dead?" they asked, alarmed, thinking that I was delirious or something.

"Nate's dead. It was the socs. The socs killed him." I still couldn't realize that the watch I had saved my allowance all year for that I was going to give Nate for Christmas would remained unopened, that I would never see my brother alive again. I handed Ponyboy the crumpled piece of paper. Ponyboy read it.

"Matt," he said. "Socs don't just go around _killing_. The beat us up, but they just don't KILL. The wanna make us suffer, not kill us. Matt, _what's going on?._ Do those socs have something against you? It's just not like them to do something like this. Matt, we can't help you if you don't tell us what's wrong."

I sighed. It was finally time for me to tell the truth. "Well," I said, "you remember that I was a soc…." I told them everything, how it was my idea to go beat up the greasers, how that resulted in Bob's death, and eventually Johnny's and Dally's. By the end of it all, I was sobbing like crazy. But I felt a strange sense of relief, though I knew they were going to hate me.

What would they care if the socs killed me? I killed two of their own. They'd probably love to have me dead.

"Well," said Shawn, "if we're all going to confess… you remember Two-Bit saying I was from the future, and then me and Ponyboy kind of shrugged it off? Well… actually, it's the truth."

_Was he joking?_ "Uh, Shawn… this is a joke, right? You're kiddin' me. 'Cuz if you ain't, this also ain't a good time to be foolin' around so soon after Nate's dead." I was starting to get mad now. Did they think that I was joking about Nate's death, that I was joking about being the soc that caused all of their problems?

"It's the honest truth, Matt. I'm tired of lying to everyone. I'm tired of having to watch what I say in case I screw something up. Ponyboy knows about it and he doesn't push me about it. But I gotta tell someone. You know the old saying 'a fish out of water?'"

"Yeah."

"Well, you're one, and so am I. I'm not from 1966. I'm from… well, let's just say several years ahead. My parents never lived on a farm in North Dakota. I'm not even an American. I'm a Canadian."

_Holy jesusalmighty._

My brain just couldn't comprehend this. Even if he was for real, how could he prove it? And if he wasn't, well, he was nuttier than just about anybody I knew. I wasn't sure if I should call the loony bin or not.

"Yeah, you probably think I'm nuts or something, right? Believe me, I would too. But it was in March of this year that I somehow ended up in the lot near the Curtis house, and you know the rest. Here, see this?"

He held out a birth certificate.

"Dally got me that. Uh, that's Dallas Winston."

"I know who Dallas was."

"Yeah, sorry. Anyway, that thing's completely fake. It's as queer as a three dollar bill. And _that _expression means something different in my time than this one."

Shawn continued. "Look, I dunno any other way to convince you, but… there it is. So, take it or leave it."

Oddly, he looked relieved. As though a burden had fallen off his shoulders. But I could see he still looked kind of scared, but of what I didn't know.

But I didn't seem to know what to believe any more.

"So," said Shawn. "What are we going to do about the socs?" he asked. "We can't just let the socs do this kinda stuff."

"Y'all don't hate me?" I asked, more confused than ever. "Ponyboy, I tried to kill you, you know I did. And Shawn, those socs beat you up near Thanksgiving 'cause of me. I wouldn't blame you if you tied me up and gave me to the socs."

"You're not like that anymore," said Ponyboy. "You've changed. "You are one of us now, and nothing can change that. As for what we're going to do," he said to Shawn, " I would think that'd be obvious.

"We're going to have a rumble to end all rumbles."

_-----------Two Days Later, At the Lot----------_

Even though I had only seen one other rumble, I could tell that to have one this big was a rarity. Not only had we managed to get the whole gang, but we also managed to get the Shepard gang and the Tiber Street Tigers, as well as about a dozen other greasers that really didn't belong to a gang, but that we had been able to convince to help us.

All the greasers were lined up on one side of the lot, waiting tensely for the socs to show up. Then, several Mustangs and Corvairs pulled up, and the socs, all boozed up and ready to fight. They all gathered on the other side of the vacant lot.

An uneasy silence spread throughout the lot as we all waited for someone to start the fight.

Then, suddenly, from the other side of the lot, one of the socs pulled a heater.

It wasn't pointed at me, but at Ponyboy.

It was then that I realized that the socs weren't going to give me the luxury of death. Instead, they were going to make my life a living hell. Until I had no one left.

It was as though everything was moving in slow motion. I saw the soc aim the gun directly at Ponyboy's chest. I saw the soc's finger tighten on the trigger, about to take the life of my best friend. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. Without even thinking I dove in front of Ponyboy and heard the sickening POW as the bullet cut through the air. I let out a scream as I felt the lead bullet rip through the flesh in my shoulder, the sheer force of it twisting my body.

And I didn't regret a thing.

**Omniscient POV**

The socs ran, knowing that sooner or later, the police would be there, waiting. It was best to be out of the way.

Matt fell limply onto the ground. He felt the blood seeping out of the wound, pouring onto the ground.

Immediately, everyone was around him. He felt Darry lift him up and lay him in the bed of the truck, Ponyboy beside him. In an instant, they were speeding to the hospital.

"Why, Matt?" Ponyboy asked him shakily. "Why did ya do that for me?"

"I started it," said Matt, his voice barely more than a whisper, "and I had to finish it. Besides, there wasn't anything for me here. I have no one left. It was only a matter of time before some social service person found out about me and took me to some boys' home or something. But you. You have your brothers. Someday, you're gonna be able to get out of this place. But even if I didn't do it, there wouldn't be anything here for me. You'd be gone, and it'd be all my fault. It's better this way.

"And I'll get to see Nate again." Matt closed his eyes, and let out a final shuddering breath.

Ponyboy heard Darry swear as they were forced to stop for a red light.

"Don't bother," Pony said to him. "It's too late, Darry. He's gone."

_-------------Epilogue----------_

The whole gang was at Matt and Nate's house. The government was going to take back the house any day now, and so the gang were going through Matt and Nate's things, seeing if there was anything they could sell, or if there was anything they wanted to keep.

Ponyboy was rummaging through some of Matt's things. He remembered the day before, when they had buried him. They had done it alone, in the middle of the night, and laid him to rest next to Johnny, Dally, and Nate.

He remembered glancing at the tombstones of his friends and thinking, _how lucky am I to have known these people?_

He had been sad of course, but Matt had given his life for him. And he knew that someday, he would see him, as well as Johnny and Dally, again.

Ponyboy started to look through one of the shelves in Matt's room, examining the books. Soon, he found a blue book with no title.

He flipped through the pages and soon found it to be Matt's journal, and in it was recorded all of the events since Matt's parents had died, and ending just after Nate's death.

Ponyboy pocketed the journal. Once upon a time, he had told the story of Johnny and Dally.

Now, it was time for Matt's story to be told. And he would be the one to tell it.

- - - - -

I'd just like to thank everyone for reading a half-planned out story by a bored thirteen year old with nothing to do this summer. I was really surprised to find out that I would receive such great reviews, even though I was a first time author here. I've had an amazing time here, but now its done, my social experiment over. With the end of summer (yes, I do go back to school in like two weeks), comes the end of this story, so thanks again for reading, and please review. Remember, flames (if you didn't like that I killed Matt) are accepted as well as expected, and that little review button down there is your friend.

**Bookworm**

Top of Form


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